


Midsummer Night's Magic

by Anchestor



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Midsummer, Wartime, just kiss you idiots, no war featured it's just the backdrop, very very low-key grillster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchestor/pseuds/Anchestor
Summary: “Grillby, get up.” Gaster’s voice was insistent.Grillby rolled on his side and opened his eyes, only to find Gaster’s face hovering less than a hands width form his own.“You weren’t sleeping yet, were you?” Gaster asked.“Not for the lack of trying-” Grillby stopped, placed his hand on Gaster’s forehead, and gently yet firmly pushed the other’s skull out of his personal space.“You can’t sleep yet! It’s the summer solstice!” Gaster grinned wide.“And what’s so special about the summer solstice?” Grillby asked, propping himself up. Whatever it was, Gaster seemed excited about it.“It’s Midsummer, Grillby! We’ve got to go do Midsummer night’s magic!”





	Midsummer Night's Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Midsummer everyone!
> 
> Not much of an international holiday, I'll admit, but I still wanted to write something to celebrate the occasion. Planned on a drabble at first, but got way too long, so independent ficlet it is! ^^

“Grillby. Grillby. Grillby.”

He felt poking on his side.

“Grillby. Grillby. Grillby-”

“ _What_ ”, he groaned.

“Grillby, get up.” Gaster’s voice was insistent.

Grillby rolled on his side and opened his eyes, only to find Gaster’s face hovering less than a hands width form his own.

“You weren’t sleeping yet, were you?” Gaster asked.

“Not for the lack of trying-” Grillby stopped, placed his hand on Gaster’s forehead, and gently yet firmly pushed the other’s skull out of his personal space.

“You can’t sleep yet! It’s the summer solstice!” Gaster grinned wide.

“And what’s so special about the summer solstice?” Grillby asked, propping himself up. Gaster whatever it was, Gaster seemed excited about it.

“It’s Midsummer, Grillby! We’ve got to go do Midsummer night’s magic!”

 

Gaster was way too chipper for how late it was. He was practically skipping on his way out of camp, Grillby in tow. Grillby felt a bit weird about leaving the camp at night, but apparently they were far enough from the front that they didn’t have to request evening leave.

“Oh, I’ve got the whole thing planned”, Gaster explained giddily. “First: I call dibs on any fern blooms we see.”

“Fern blooms?”

“Yep. Ferns only bloom during the Midsummer night, and whoever picks it gains great magical powers. And yours are pretty damn great as is, therefore, I call dibs.”

“Okay”, Grillby answered, deciding to humour Gaster, if nothing else.

“The Midsummer night holds grand powers of divination, but only in one _very_ specific field”, Gaster said dramatically, pausing for effect. “Loooooove.”

“Most of the stuff we’ll be doing tonight is magic to get a vision of our future spouses!” he continued.

“What do you mean, ‘we’”, Grillby deadpanned, still a little miffed about getting dragged out of bed.

“Fine, suit yourself. Most of the stuff _I’ll_ be doing will get _me_ a vision of _my_ future spouse”, Gaster scoffed.

Then, a shadow of uncertainty flickered over his face.

“You’ll still come with me, though?”

“Sure”, Grillby sighed. Even if he was tired, he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t gotten curios about what Gaster’s magic’s involved.

Gaster’s face lit up as he smiled.

“Good. I’ll need someone to keep an eye on my clothes.”

“You’re going to need someone to _what_ -”

 

Grillby sat by the shore, a bundle of Gaster’s clothes on his lap.

“See anything yet?”

“WHAT?”

“SEE ANYTHING YET?” Grillby shouted over the sound of the rushing water.

“NOT YET”, Gaster shouted back. He was sitting in the middle of a rapid, on one of the large stones poking out of the water. Completely naked, save for a girdle made out of straw. Gaster was curled into a ball, furiously trying to rub his arms for warmth.

“HOW LONG ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SIT THERE?” Grillby shouted.

“TOO LONG!”

Gaster hopped off the stone, and waded through the stream, back to the shore.

“God _damn_ the water is cold!” Gaster was shivering hard enough to make his bones rattle.

Grillby handed Gaster his clothes back, but the other only put his robe on.

“No pants?” Grillby asked, raising a brow.

“There’s no time for pants. I’m going have to get naked again for the next one anyway.”

 

This time, Grillby found himself a nice log to sit on with the bundle of Gaster’s clothes on his lap.

Gaster, on the other hand?

Rolling around naked in a dewy field. Joy.

“It’s funny”, Gaster said as he paused to take a breather from the rolling. “Somehow wearing nothing but a straw girdle feels a lot more naked than not wearing anything at all.”

“Just how may of these have to be done naked?” Grillby asked.

“Most of them”, Gaster answered without missing a beat.

“There’s running through ditches naked, running around a triangular field naked, sweeping the bedroom floor naked-”

“ _Why_.”

“It’s _magic_ , Grillby.” Gaster said with emphasis. “Besides, if you saw someone rolling around in your rye field without any clothes, wouldn’t _your_ first priority be to put a ring on it?”

“My first priority would be to put a _shirt_ on it”, Grillby deadpanned. “Running around naked in the middle of the night? Sick is what you’re going to get, not hitched.”

“And how is this even supposed to work?” he continued, gesturing to Gaster and the field. “Roll around until you get dizzy enough to have a vision?”

“No, this is just to increase marital luck”, Gaster explained, getting up and brushing stray bits of grass off his bones. “Pants, please.”

“Oh thank stars.”

 

“So, no running through ditches naked?” Grillby asked as they walked in the direction of the camp.

“The night is as short as they get, Grillby. We’ve got to optimize.”

They took a turn at the path, and came to a well.

“So, how does this work?” Grillby asked.

“If one looks into a well or a spring during the Midsummer night, one should see the reflection of your future spouse in the water”, Gaster explained.

Grillby pondered a bit.

“Mind if I try too?”

Gaster grinned as he walked up to the well.

“Oh, Grillby! Are you getting into the Midsummer spirit too? Yearning for a glimpse if your future sweetheart?”

Grillby rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, stop that. Looking into a well is pretty easy, even if this doesn’t work.”

“Then get over here!” Gaster called as he opened the creaking lid.

They both settled by the edge of the well, peering inside.

The waters were dark and still, the stone walls illuminated by little more than Grillby’s flame.

“Do you see anything?” Gaster whispered, his voice echoing in the well.

“I mean. I can see my own reflection.” Grillby whispered back, shifted his gaze. “And yours.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“…Maybe we both shouldn’t try at the same time.”

“Yeah that might be messing up the magic”, Grillby agreed, pushing himself away from the well edge.

 

“Okay. This one is kind of fun, I’ll give you that”, Grillby said, picking another flower. “How many hays did you say I need? Was it seven?”

“Nine”, Gaster corrected. “No more, no less.”

The two of them were sitting in the middle of a meadow. This magic involved making flower crowns, apparently. Grillby had never made one before, so Gaster had taught him how to weave the flowers together with hay.

It was nice. Relaxing. The night air was calm and cool, birds were chirping in the distance. Grillby had always liked doing stuff with his hands, and it was fun to fit wildflowers together in a way that looked pretty.

“Gaster?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really think in that this stuff works?

Gaster’s movements stilled.

“…It’s fun to believe in these kind of things sometimes”, he finally said.

“It’s a nice idea at least, isn’t it? I’d like to… It’d be nice to have a vision of who you’ll marry.”

Gaster’s voice was awfully quiet.

“It’d be nice to know for sure that there _is_ someone out there for you.”

Maybe Gaster was so quiet because the night was so quiet. It would feel wrong to disturb the silence.

“Do you do this every year?” Grillby asked.

“The one with rolling in a field, yes. And at least some of the others, if I can. Like I said, one has to optimize. And like you said at the well, even if none of this works, it’s not that much wasted effort.”

Gaster gave a small, nervous chuckle.

“Though sometimes I do get this little voice in my head that says that I can’t get a vision of my future spouse because there is no future spouse to get a vision of. That’s why I make a point of rolling in a field every year. Increases to odds, you know?”

Gaster’s fingers absentmindedly brushed the crack in his skull connecting his mouth and eye socket.

“And my lanky butt needs all the help it can get”, he finished in a tone that was probably meant to be joking.

Grillby sat in silence for a bit.

“I think you’d make a good husband”, he finally said, picking another flower to weave into the flower crown.

“You’re smart, you’re emphatic, and fun to be around. You’re always dragging me along to new adventures, like this whole Midsummer night’s magic thing. You’ve… You’ve to this energy to yourself, you know? You’re always doing something, always trying new things, always trying to learn something. I think it’s pretty admirable.”

“Awww, Grillby…” a touched smile had spread on Gaster’s face. “That’s so sweet of you to say. Though it’s hard to believe anyone would find _this_ face attractive-”

“ _Bullshit_ ”, Grillby interrupted, surprising even himself with how riled he sounded.

“You know what I think when I see the cracks on your skull? _How fucking strong you are_. You took a sword to the face, and clawed your way back from the brink. You never, ever give up! And if someone is so shallow that they wont give you a chance because of that? They wouldn’t have deserved you anyway!”

“Woah, Grillby, calm down”, Gaster placated with widened eye sockets.

“Not until you promise to stop putting yourself down like that”, Grillby huffed with indignation.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t talk like that.” Gaster looked down to his hands, tweaking the hays that tied the flowers together. “I guess I’m just getting tired.”

They continued making their flower crowns. Soon Gaster had already finished his.

“I think you’d make a good husband, too”, he said eventually. “You’re brave, and loyal, and strong. You don’t loose your cool, even when the going get’s tough. A bit reckless, maybe, I can’t say I like how often I need to bandage you up. But you never even complain about being put in the frontlines. Whenever I get something stupid in my head, you’re there to ground me.”

Gaster turned his flower crown around in his hands.

“Like… If I’ll crash and burn, you’ll be there to catch me. You’re like a safe haven in a storm, always there if I ever need you.”

Grillby flickered happy yellows. It felt a bit weird to hear Gaster praising him like this, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice.

“And as far as finding someone goes, I don’t think being a war hero with a body like it was crafted by Pygmalion himself exactly hurts your chances. Once things calm down, let me tell you, people will be clamouring for your hand”, Gaster finished with a half-grin.

“We’ll see”, Grillby chuckled.

Grillby tied the ends of the flower crown together, and placed if on his head.

“So, what are going to do with these? Look through them to see a vision?”

“Nope, they go under the pillow for the night, and then we’ll have dreams about our future spouses”, Gaster answered, getting up. “There’s a reason why I saved this one for the last. Come on, let’s get back to the tent.”

 

Once they were in the tent they shared, they both put their respective flower crowns under their pillows (or rather the bundles of clothing that served as pillows).

Gaster climbed on his bunk, pulled off his left sock, and put it back on the wrong way round.

“This also gives a prophetic dream”, he explained.

“You’re taking no chances with this, are you?” Grillby chuckled.

So, they both settled for the night. Grillby let his fire grow dim, ready to sleep.

“Grillby?”

“Mhmm?”

“Thanks for coming with me tonight”, Gaster said quietly. “This kind of stuff is a lot more fun to do with a friend.”

“Sure. This was nice”, Grillby said, yawning.

“Well, good night then.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Grillby fell asleep.

And in his dream he was walking through a forest with Gaster, hand in hand. Ferns were blooming all around them. As they walked, they counted the calls of a cuckoo together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As Midsummer has it's roots in the pagan summer solstice celebration, it comes with a lot of folk magic attached. The magics vary regionally, the stuff Gaster does/mentions are from Finland and Karelia.
> 
> Counting the calls of a cuckoo is also a method of divination: the cuckoo calls as many times as there are years to the marriage. Counting them with someone would mean the two people marry the same year then, fancy that ;)
> 
> Well, happy Midsummer again! Feedback would be much appreciated ^^


End file.
